


There Is No Going Back

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Castration, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Modern Era, Murder, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stabbing, Torture, forced murder, they screw near a dead body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24366325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: A late-night drive puts Reek on edge, what could his Master be planning?
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	There Is No Going Back

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Warning: I was wasted when I wrote this so I went a tad overboard.

Wind whipped through the open window, shrieking through the small truck with a fervor. The late autumn moon hid behind dark, thick clouds that hung low in the sky above. Trying his damnedest to keep from shivering, a nervous little wreck occupied the ratty passenger seat. It took every fiber of his being to keep his eyes glued to the road flickering by, and not to the imposing figure behind the well-worn steering wheel. Every reach for the radio dial, every mirror adjustment, every glance over at him made the maimed boy twitch.

“Stop that fidgeting Reek.” The pavement sped past, disappearing beneath the rusty truck.

He could only nod dumbly and firm his grip on the mangled skin that rested under the loose sweater the bastard had tugged over his head haphazardly. The former Greyjoy was roused from a pitifully poor sleep before Ramsay was insisting they went on a midnight drive. The fall air was a tad more than crisp and sucked the air from his lungs, he wasn’t exactly dressed for traipsing around the North in the dead of night, but who was he to deny his master’s command? 

There was close to no light illuminating the endless stretch of asphalt that wound its way through the dense woods. Only dingy headlights gave some semblance of where they were going, although no clue was offered up for how long they’d be out. Numbering the seconds helped settle raw nerves but he lost count after a couple of hours. Fear was one of the single pillars that kept Reek from falling back into a fitful rest, that... and the moment he began to doze the Bolton would lay a solid blow to the already battered body to rouse him from any sort of slumber.

“Pay attention pet.” He would growl. To what he wasn’t exactly sure, but he did as he was bid. 

The wretch moved his scattered attention to his hands, wringing them worriedly and prodding at the missing digits anxiously. Perhaps his captor was dragging him out to the middle of the forest to finally rid himself of his annoying little charge… or maybe he was going to give chase back to the solemn rotting cabin Theon had called home for Gods knew how long. Ramsay had a penchant for springing traps on the Greyjoy, leading him in mindless loops until it broke the little creature. No matter how hard he tried to distance himself, the boy knew that push would come to shove eventually. Pulling bruised knees to his chest didn’t serve to make him any smaller in the seat. He hated that it smelled so strongly of cigars in the claustrophobic cab; He hated it more that it reminded him of Ramsay’s breath. Reek brought the palm of his dirty hand to his head with force, repeating the spasm until he knocked the thought out of his head.

The sky that loomed above the pair was pitch black save for the slight sliver of the moon that peeked through rolling clouds. The shafts of the headlights swept over the countryside like a lonely lighthouses’ beam scanning over the horizon of a deep green sea. Not unlike the crosshairs of a gun, those same lights focused on a lone figure, arm extended, and thumbing for a late-night ride. The vehicle came to a halt, a small grin split across the Bolton’s pale features. Eagerly the unknown man jogged up to the window with a hopeful look on his face.

“Hey!” The cheery tone was disheartening, “You guys headed East? I’m headin’ near Deepwood motte.”

Reek only looked over at his Lord, who was smiling like a hyena who found a good meal.

“Yeah! We’re headed that way, we could drop you off at least a little closer, Bud.”

The accommodating voice was a bright red flag to the sniveling creature; He knew exactly what it entailed.

“Scoot over Theon, make some room.”

It took a minute for him to realize that Ramsay was talking to him. The name made him deeply uncomfortable, the need to prove that that man was dead welled inside him. Master hated it more when Reek ruined his games so he kept his mouth shut. His head swiveled between the two, both smiling ear to ear...one with a very different connotation.

“O-oh yeah...o-o-of course.” He slid over to the center seat to allow the stranger to take a seat beside him; It’s not like the gaunt figure took up much room anyhow. The man didn’t take up much space at all either, only a near-empty backpack, a dingy guitar case, and whatever the poor sap had in his pockets was all he had on him. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what Ramsay wanted with this man, but then again he had a hard time wrapping his head around anything. 

“So do you live around here? Or just passing through?” Bolton aired nonchalantly.

“Passin’ through, I like to keep it interesting.”

“I get it, not much to see in this part of the country.” 

The quiet moments were deafening, but Reek could hardly keep up with the pace of the conversation to add anything intelligible anyhow. It was so mundane yet so complicated. His Lord was wonderful at mind games and he couldn’t tell what was a ruse and what was authentic; Needling unsuspecting victims with innocent-sounding queries was his specialty.

“I’m hoping to score a bit more cash somewhere else,” The man mused, “The music scene here isn’t exactly boomin’ ya know?”

“Heheh, yeah Winterfell is filled with more than just a few old coots, My father being one of them.”  
“Exactly! My parents kicked me out after I refused to get a ‘normal job’” 

The grin on Master’s face must mean that the stranger said something wrong, Reek looked back and forth between the two, trying to feign understanding.

“Ha!” A sharp laugh made the former Greyjoy jump ever so slightly, “Parents!, who needs them...Theon’s Pops didn’t much care for him either. Isn’t that right Theon?”

The name made him flinch, Reek didn’t like this game very much, but he knew he had to play nonetheless.

“N-no...no he d-didn’t.” He stumbled over the simplest of words; It was embarrassing. Training his widened eyes on the dusty dashboard as some feeble attempt at avoiding eye contact. 

“Left him for dead really…” Becoming increasingly uncomfortable, the hitchhiker offered no response to the sudden change of tone Bolton had set, “Right?”

“Ye-es” He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t. It would upset Master’s plan.

“It just goes to show, you can’t trust anyone.” Ramsay said sternly, a moral at the end of a children’s book.

It was silent for what felt like hours, the maimed boy kept his eyes fixed ahead...daring not move a muscle.

“Uh...haha...ha yeah...Anyway thanks for the ride man,” He tried to keep his voice even but Master could always see through a lie, “You can let me out here, this is pretty close to where I’m goin’.”

“Nonsense, We’re in the middle of the woods.” The dark-haired monster tsked.

“Nah...I-i recognize this road, It’s totally fine.” The man was side-eyeing Reek’s ragged pants and suspiciously scarred ankles and feet; it was the first time the whole ride he noticed the creature was malnourished. The dark circles under his eyes no longer unexplainable, The shaking not so typical of frigid weather.

“I suppose if you insist.” What once was a charismatic voice was matted with ire. The vehicle slowed to a stop, pulling over in the grassy embankment to let out its’ wary passenger, “I hope you have a nice evening.”

The unknown man gathered up his few worldly possessions and high-tailed it out of what was sure to be a death trap straight out of a horror movie. Keeping a steady pace he marched down the highway out of the reach of Ramsay’s fading headlights. Reek still had no clue what this exercise was for, it confused him profoundly but that wasn’t new...after all he was just a dim little thing.

“Alright pet, I believe we have given him enough of a head start.” His Lord turned to rifle through the glove compartment, pulling out a lengthy blade. Its angry serrated edges made his charge tear up and begin to beg, “No Reek this is for our new found friend, not you.”

Master placed the knife in his mangled hands, closing them around the hilt and holding onto him ever so gently. He gave his pet a wide-eyed look, speaking slowly and softly.

“It’s about time you made your first kill,” He chided, “After all, my other girls know the simple command so all my dogs should know it hmm?.”

Reek ogled back, nodding blankly, not quite understanding. Ramsay sighed and tightened his grip on his ruined fingers.

“Rip him Reek, Rip.” He explained like it was common knowledge, “Your teeth aren’t that sharp so I figured I would help you out, isn’t that generous of me sweetling?”

The creature gawked at the receding figure, wandering out into the dark of night, and then back at his captor. Mouth opening and closing, desperately trying to formulate a response. 

“But...M-m-master...Reek,” He spat out, “Reek has never...he d-doesn’t....”

“He’s getting away pet.” The cold crept in, “You want to be my good Reek right?”

…

“Right?” He growled.

He just nodded, Biting down on his lip hard, the blood that welled up didn’t surprise him anymore. Good good good, Reek is good. Reek, Reek it rhymes with bleak.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” His door swung open, quickly hopping out of the truck, expecting his captive to follow; Sure enough the hunched creature slunk out behind his commander.

“Sir! Sir!” The man momentarily stopped, “You forgot something!”

He seemed hesitant like he was going to bolt at any second, Reek knew that look intimately. Master approached casually, his pet following his example to the best of its ability. His wounded feet protesting against walking on the rocky terrain that made up the side of the road but he fretted that stepping onto the grass was too nice for him and his Lord might be upset so he matched Ramsay’s footsteps.

“I’m afraid you left something behind.” He ventured

Before he could get another sentence out the man sprinted into the forest, clearly sensing the oddity of the situation. Ramsay cursed under his breath.

“Go get him.”

The pregnant pause was too long for his Lord. “I SAID GO!, go GET him, Reek!”

In an instant, he was crashing through the underbrush after the unknown hiker. Adrenaline fueled by fear pushed him to forget the limp that haggard his running speed. Feet pounding painfully against the solid earth below him, each step was agony but every inch he fell behind startled him into action. The trees wove around him, dizzying and stupifying; the fact that he hadn’t run face first into one yet it was a miracle. Only the incentive of punishment kept him moving, the man in front of the creature was no longer a human being, merely a prize to acquire for his Master. When he caught up with him, the broken Greyjoy shoved his prey to the ground, coming upon him like a loyal hunting hound. The knife in his hands white-hot, unavoidable, inevitable. 

“Good boy, Such a wonderful dog, Reek.” He wasn’t sure if the voice was in his head or his Lord had actually caught up with them. He panted heavily, desperate to catch his breath above the flailing man. Who pleaded and squirmed, certainly stronger than Reek, He was escaping his loose grip rather quickly. The blade in his grip burning unlike any fire his Master had put upon him.

“Rip Him! Rip HIm!”

Every jab of the weapon came unevenly, the sobs that hindered it becoming stronger. The sharp blade sliced under the flesh quickly, easily, like a hot knife through butter. The poor creature lost track of his motion, disassociating and letting the blood pool in the soft grass in the forest floor beneath them. Rip rip rip. Bringing it down over and over, screaming himself hoarse. He could have brought down that pain for an eternity, as long as it kept him in his Lord’s good graces, prevented him from losing one of his few remaining fingers. The body below him was now limp, unseeing eyes gazed up at the unending stars. Each breath was a task of its own, every twitch a monument to his remaining strength. The knife stuck in the man’s chest was a sanctity, a relief. His master would be happy...proud? He’d listened... Good Reek, Loyal Reek. 

“Reek!” His eyes darted to the dark figure looming above him, “Such a good job, You dispatched of him rather quickly...I’m pleased with you.”

Crawling to cling to his Lord’s boots, he cried openly. The unmoving body unnerving him to the core, he was a monster now...the freak his Master said he was. That poor man. That poor man. Why did Master want him dead? Master wanted him dead...Master wanted him dead. Reek just hugged the only thing in his world tighter. Scared he was not in control...scared he was...in control.

“That wasn’t so terrible now, was it?” Ramsay sneered.

“Reek w-wants,” He begged, “wants t-t-to go home Master, P-please...Ple-ease!”

For a sweet moment, Ramsay tangled his fingers in his messy hair. Spending a second to pet his mutilated creature softly, shushing him and bringing a calm to the turmoil of emotions encapsulating the simple animal. It was heaven to lean into his hand, enjoying the tender moment,

“See? You aren’t completely useless darling.” He cooed, “I knew you had some sort of use.”

Reek just agreed, leaning into his kidnapper with a fervent glee. It evaded his notice that his lord was crouching to hold him, to shove him to the ground. It felt like the whole world up-ended itself as he became vertical, the hefty body above him pinning him to the rotting foliage of the forest floor. Biting up his neck, scratching down his sides. All Reek felt was his Master’s hand on his being, praising his loyal doings. He whispered in his ear, dirty, sweet nothings, appraising the ghastly behavior that would surely haunt his nightmares. The whole time the body slowly growing cold next to them gawked into the distance...unmoving...eery. 

“I’m so proud of you, pet.” Ramsay hissed, “So cold-blooded, you’re just as despicable as any common killer.”

Hands sank down to search under his rags, feeling up his ripped thigh, enjoying the deep scars that told other stories. The air wasn’t as frigid as it had previously introduced itself, the boy tried to pull away from the tormentor hunched over him. Heat licked up his body, pulled his body closer to the horror above him. It was repulsive, the dead man beside them...he didn’t want to be here...gods he didn’t want to be here...it will all go away...it will all go away if you listen to Master. 

“Is this turning you on? You’re horrible Reek, truly disgusting.” Ramsay’s hand fondled his nub, his entrance. It was blinding, the touch...maybe he was a freak. He could feel the thick warmth of the blood soaking into the clean sweater his Lord had given him, he almost mourned the unsoiled clothing item. Tingling wrought his entire body unmovable, gasping he pressed into Ramsay with a fervor. Though the faint phantom pain warned the former Greyjoy that this was a dangerous road he was traveling. When Reek averted his eyes all he saw was the corpse occupying the space next to him, quickly he moved his gaze back to the halo of dark hair that had cornered him to the dirt. An angel of death…

“Plea-ease.” Tears streaked down the pale skin, “I d-don’t under-derstand.”

Rough fingers pushed inside him, pulling a ragged scream from his cracked lips. He didn’t want to look at the figure bearing down on his body, taking what he wanted like it was nothing, a voice deep, deep inside him told him to fight back, to push this pervert off of him and run as far as his legs could carry him. Though the stretch burned in a saccharine way, like a reward for all his hard work. When his Lord hit that spot inside him, his whole being lit up. Pushing back against those straining fingers was heavenly, The ache of every wound cornered to the back of his weak mind. Thick legs pushed between his mangled ones, spreading him open, inviting the larger man in further.

“It’s okay Reek, I won’t tell anyone,” Ramsay laughed coldly, “That you’re a murderer, a killer, so sick...It’s awful really.”

It must have been his imagination, the rotting smell, the horrendous odor. The body idle beside them, was it staring at them? His attention was pulled to his Master sliding his ragged pants down, the trees around them felt judgemental. 

“Already panting for my cock, and his body isn’t even cold yet.” Ramsay’s digits left him, he couldn’t help but whimper. The blood soaking into his clothes was quickly coagulating, every movement was sticky. In one smooth motion, his Lord swept his legs into the air, yanking his lower half into his waiting hips. A weak gasp escaped him, the urge to fight long gone. The bulge in the other man’s breeches was alarming, rock hard, and eager he knew exactly what the Bastard wanted. Reek tried to focus on the pebbles digging into his back, the chirping of distant crickets...anything but the sound of a zipper opening haphazardly. 

The wretch could feel the pop of healing wounds, the lazy leak of blood that accompanied the hiker’s fluids. He had no time to worry over the ache he’d feel in the morning, his captor was pushing inside him with careless abandon. Quite a while ago the creature had stopped feeling the rip that came with his Lord taking him like a woman, but he did feel the hot breath that huffed down his scarred neck.

“You’d do anything for me wouldn’t you sweetling?”

Reek pushed himself down against the torturer within him.

“Such an obedient thing,” The Bolton crooned to his pet, “I’ll destroy you from the inside out.”

He thrust manically into the willing animal, each slap of skin adjoined by a cry of pain, of confused pleasure. This was the only sense of reprieve that Reek got from the endless torment he was subject to...he secretly craved it...the not-so-tender touches of his Master. Trying to avoid the cloying thoughts of the cadaver lying next to the pair, he moaned and jutted his hips back against his Lord. The stars hung above them, watching with hateful eyes, the wind whispered his sins to him.

“I should take you on hunts more often,” He grunted, “Such a loyal dog.”

“Loyal Reek,” The man mumbled, “Good R-reek, Loyal Reek...r-rhymes with freak.”

A vice-like grip wrapped around his throat, he leaned into it. The pace became erratic, lecherous sounds echoed in the lonely woods. The dead eyes of the man judged him as Master released his seed inside him. The flood of warmth was comforting, relieving... Left dripping, Ramsay stood up off of him. 

“Gather up the body Reek…” He said cooley, “We have to clean up your mess.”

Laying silent, the man stared at the bloodied knife...a tender grasp wrapped around its’ messy hilt; Blood still dirtying the fine weapon. In a single swift motion, he was atop the stranger, leaking come and crimson. The knife came down...over and over. It impaled the motionless corpse with ease. The craze that had overcome the poor soul unleashed itself full-force upon the body...He couldn’t catch his breath.

His chest heaved, drawing in oxygen at a dizzying speed.

Reek couldn’t remember his Master pulling him off the man but he would always remember him holding him close to his broad chest. Hushing him gently and running fingers through his mussed hair and down his whip-scarred back.

“I-i...I...Want to go home....Please...Ple-ease M’lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> For more content follow me at saigoat on Tumblr. Comments are cherished and appreciated.


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